


FOUR TIMES RON AND HERMIONE WERE FIGHTING AND RON JUST SHUT UP AND HELD HER

by olivemartini



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fighting, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, ronmione
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2015-07-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 02:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4461482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivemartini/pseuds/olivemartini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what the title says</p>
            </blockquote>





	FOUR TIMES RON AND HERMIONE WERE FIGHTING AND RON JUST SHUT UP AND HELD HER

Ron and Hermione fought a lot, over everything and anything. Some friends, every little spat was like ww3, but with them, it was normal. It was like the background noise for their friendship. Only sometimes, they take it to far, and hours turn into days, and sometimes days into a week. Hermione was very good at holding a grudge, but not at hiding her tears. And whenever Hermione cried, Ron just shut up and held her.

1.) After the Yule Ball  
No one saw it coming. Quiet, know it all, bushy haired Hermione was suddenly the girl that everyone wanted to look like, and was dating the guy that every girl wanted on their arm. No one knew she had it in her to be that pretty, and now she was the center of attention, the topic of conversation for every gossipy girl in the Gryffindor house. Ron had had enough of it.  
This wasn't a newsflash for him.   
That smile that everyone was talking about, the one that lit up the room while she was dancing? He sees it every day, every time she felt proud of herself or he made her laugh.  
The fact that everyone was saying, "she's a girl after all?" He knew that. Despite how he might have tried to ask her to the ball, he was completely aware that she was a girl. Very aware, in fact. It's why he held doors for her, and made special care to knock on the bathroom door whenever she stayed at his house, not that she seemed to notice any of that.  
Or the worst thing to hear that night was the, "I can't believe she got a guy like that." He knew she could have any guy she wanted. Fred and George told him that all the time, and sometimes he thought he even saw Fred looking at her with something more than brotherly affection, but he never thought she would have wanted to go to the ball with someone like Krum. Ron had hoped she would have wanted to go with someone like... well, someone like him.   
But if he's learned one thing, it's that things don't always work out the way they planned. If things had worked out the way he had planned, she would have gone to the dance with him, and she wouldn't have made a single comment about his awful second hand dress robes like his date had, and she would have danced with him, and smiled at him like she had been smiling at Krum. Instead, he got to watch her dance all night, looking beautiful in that dress, smiling at Krum like he wanted her to smile at him (which is strange because it's Hermione), and then getting into a massive fight afterwards. He hadn't moved since he had flung himself down into the armchair by the fire, staring at the flames in his awful dress robes.  
He probably wouldn't have moved, had it not been for the footsteps behind him. Is it bad that he knew it was her just from how she was walking? Or maybe he was just hoping it was her? "What are you doing?" It was meant to be mean, to make her stop and look hurt for a second, but there was no bite to his words. She only sighed, and sat down on the couch across from him, pointedly looking at the ground.  
"I was looking for my book, but I can't find it." She sniffed. "Lavendar and Parvati keep telling me how pretty I look tonight, and how I might actually look good if I did that to my hair every day, and how I actually looked like a girl tonight. From the way they talked, it's a wonder Victor ever looked at me in the first place."  
He wanted to make some snide remark about her calling Krum by his first name, but he couldn't, not when she was looking like that, not when she was trying to hold back her tears. "You looked like you were having fun."  
"Until you ruined it." And the accusation was there. "I was having fun, Ron, thank you for asking, with a guy that actually wanted to go with me, and I was actually feeling pretty for once in my life, but.." She took a deep, shaky breath. "It doesn't matter. It's only one night, anyways."  
"It does matter. I'm sorry." He got up and sat beside her. "But for the record, you should feel pretty all the time."  
She was laying her head on his shoulder, and the only thing he could think was "I've been friend-zoned so hard" before he saw the tears sliding down her cheeks, and he was putting an arm around her shoulders. "Why?"  
He sighed, knowing that his answer wouldn't make a difference, that he couldn't go back in time and ask her first, and that she would still be talking to Victor after he said it, but hoped that it might help him somewhere along the line. "Because you look pretty all the time."

2.) Harry  
"Maybe if you would stop yelling at him all the bloody time-,"  
"He has to try to close his mind-,"  
"He's trying!"  
"He needs to try harder!"  
"He's already got Umbridge breathing down his bloody back he doesn't need you too!"  
"I'm just trying to help, someone has to try to-,"  
"You don't think I'm worried to? You're not his mother, Hermione! Or mine either, for that matter."  
"I know I'm not your mother, I feel bad for your mother, but Harry-,"  
"Is fine!"  
"Is letting Voldmeort into his mind!"  
"Maybe if you would keep your know-it-all nose in your own business and worry about your bushy hair instead of him!"  
"Shut up Ronald Weasley!" Each word was punctuated with a slap from the pillow in her hand. It was late, and the two of them, along with Fred and George, were waiting for Harry to come back from detention with Umbridge. The twins were watching the fight with a gleeful expression, but with Ron's final comment, they sucked in a breath. They knew enough from watching their parents fight that a male mentioning any woman's hair or their own business was basically suicide, and would keep them in the dog house for days.  
Hermione turned to go, but Ron reached out and grabbed her hand. "Ron!" The twins watched as Ron flinched back, but all three Weasley boys noticed that her exclamation wasn't one of anger, but pain.   
"Hermione?"   
"Ronald!"   
Tentatively, like someone trying not to scare off a wounded animal, Ron reached forward and grabbed her arm. She twisted, trying to get away, but half-heartedly. He shoved up the sleeve, revealing the scabbed up words "I must stay quiet."   
"Umbridge." It was a growl, and the way Ron said it made it sound like it tasted bad in his mouth. "I'm gonna kill her. I will. She has no right to-,"  
"I mouthed off to her-,"  
"That doesn't mean she can-,"  
"I can handle this-,"  
"We should tell McGonagall!"  
"I just said that and you argued-,"  
"That was with Harry!"  
"So?"  
"Harry can handle it!"  
"And I can't?" Her eyes were filling with tears. They'd been fighting all night, back and forth, when she really just wanted to sit and do homework with him. Of course, Fred and George were here, so it's not like she could have told him about Umbridge tonight anyways, but she didn't think he would have the nerve to tell her she couldn't handle it.   
"That's not what I meant."  
"What did you mean?"  
"That you shouldn't have to." His voice was surprisingly gentle. "Handle it, I mean."  
"You can't do anything about it." She sniffled.  
"Wish I could." And then she was crying, and he was opening his arms for her to step into, and Fred and George were slipping out of the room. There was nothing for him to say to make it better, only listen to her muffled "I'm sorry's" that she sobbed into his shoulder, her hand caught between them, his thumb running over the raised up words.   
And the next time she was given detention, Ron was there beside her, whistling cheerfully even as the quill bit into the back of his hand.

3.) Lavendar  
It wasn't like she had expected him to open his arms and let her kiss him. It wasn't like she would have done it in front of all those people anyways, she was too shy. But everyone thought they were together anyways, she knew that and so did he, and she had been under the impression that they both enjoy the thought, even though they were both quick to shoot the idea down whenever it was propsed by a classmate. Still, she never thought she would be.... Never thougt he would.....  
Honestly, the thing she never thought was how he felt about Lavendar.  
Because really, why would he go for a blonde bimbo like her? He didn't hang out with any other girls like her. Luna, certainly not, and his sister was anything but daft, and his mother was strong willed. The girl friends he had all fit into the category of having a back bone and not obsessed over their hair and being brave and courageous and.. and... not Lavendar.  
But maybe, That little voice in her head was whispering, Maybe that's why they're all just friends. He was certainly into Fluer, wasn't he, and she's a bit daft and blonde and obsessed with her looks? So maybe that's what he wanted, a pretty girl with a tiny mind who cares about her hair. He didn't like his child hood friend after all. He doesn't like you. He probably never even noticed that you were a girl.  
"Shut up!" She whisper-yelled it to the voice in her head, but unfortunately, Ron heard it to. They had been sitting across from each other, both pretending to look at their notes but both alternating turns staring at each other. The tension between them was almost papable, and the hurt and confusion was loud and clear to both of them, though neither could figure out why the other would be hurt, or confused, or sad, or angry, or any of the emotions that was playing across their faces right now.  
"I never said anything!" He threw his book onto the table with a thwack, thinking something along the lines of "my fault always my bloody fault" and "finally fighting this is familiar, we always fight."  
"I never said you did!" Hermione's voice was a bit shrill, and she wanted to hit him, to scream at him, why would you kiss her when I was so convinced the only damn girl you wanted to kiss was me?  
"Then who the bloody hell are you telling to shut up? Are you going crazy?" Ron was yelling, he knew it, and the tips of his ears were turning red because he realized the entire common room was empty, which meant they were alone for the first time since he had started dating Lavendar.   
"You!" Hermione knew that it was a hypocritical sort of answer, but she couldn't very well tell him that she was talking to herself, now could she? "I don't want to hear anything you have to say, Ronald Weasley!" Because they're all lies, I swear they are, everything that came out of your mouth, whenever you told me my blood status didn't matter no matter what Malfoy said, how you thought I was the bravest witch you've met, how you think I'm pretty even with my hair, because if that had been the truth it would be Lavendar who gets to hold you hand, now would it?  
"Not like I wanted to talk to you, anyways!"   
"You've made that clear enough!"  
And suddenly both of them knew they weren't fighting about her telling him to shut up anymore.  
"Yeah, well, you don't want to talk to me either! You walk away from me whenever I come up to you and Harry, and I've tried to talk to you like we used to, tried to study with you, tried to be friends again, but it's all Harry this and Harry that." A sudden, horrible thought struck him then: She likes quidditch players, good ones, not crappy ones like me, so maybe she likes Harry after all?  
"Let's be honest here Ronald, Harry's the only reason we've ever really talked at all this year, isn't it? What are we without Harry?" Friends, best friends, please say it Ron, please say I mean something to you, even if she means more,  
"I don't know." His voice was flat, empty, and cut her like a sword. "I have no bloody clue, and neither do you. Maybe we're nothing without Harry. Maybe the only reason we ever started being friends was Harry, and now that we don't talk when we're with him, I guess we don't have anything at all."  
And it was breaking, they both thought then, whatever connection or relationship they had convinced themselves existed was crumbling, and neither of them would take a chance to save it.  
"It's not like you've missed me."  
"I try to talk to you!"  
"Lavandar's always there! She's always there with us now, and you know I don't like she, she's a stupid, bimbo, blonde, ar-,"  
"That's my girlfriend your talking about!"   
"I KNOW!" And then she was crying again, sobbing, and shouting through her tears. "DO YOU THINK I COULD HAVE POSSIBLY MISSED THAT, RONALD? How could I, when you're always kissing and giggling and being happy with each other, and holding hands, and.. and going on dates and being a couple, and I should be happy for you, I know I should and I'm sorry, but do you understand HOW HARD IT IS FOR ME TO WATCH?" She was admitting something, she knew, and there would be know going back once she did.  
"Hermione..." It was a plea for her to stop talking, and he was coming towards her, and she wondered at what point did she start standing?  
"And Ron, I'm sorry, but I can't be around you, not with her there, not like this." He wrapped his arms around her, and she laid his head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent that she used to be so familiar with, wishing that they could turn back time so neither of them made such an awful mess of things.  
"I'm sorry too, Hermione." They were standing closer than necessary, and if only she could convince herself that she didn't care what Lavender felt or thought about Ron, she might be able to turn her head and kiss him like she'd wanted to do for the past three years.   
But then the portrait hole door creaked open, and someone's questioning voice asked "Ron?", revealing Lavender and Parvati standing together in the middle of the common room. They broke apart, Ron stuttering his excuses to his girlfriend, and when he turned around, Hermione had slipped up the stairs, already trying to think of a story to tell the girls when they came up to the dormitory.

4.) Fighting  
Both of them were at a stand off.  
They were in the storage room at Fred and George's shop, both of them standing on opposite sides of the room, glaring at the other. When Hermione finally spoke, it was through gritted teeth. "They specifically told us not to touch anything!"  
"Well, I didn't think they had this whole thing bloody rigged to trap us in here!"   
"It's Fred and George, what did you expect?"   
"You're the one who stormed in here like an idiot."  
At this, Hermione glowered at him. "I am not an idiot."   
And no, she wasn't.  
What had happened was, they were fighting, again. The whole Weasley family (plus Hermione) had taken a trip to visit the twins. The rest of the family was outside in the shop, and probably would not miss them until they all left Diagon Alley and went back to the Burrow. Ron had been badgering Hermione over why she had showed up crying a whole month earlier than they had expected her to get there (not that he wasn't thrilled she was there, but he wouldn't stop asking, and she'd rather not think about it). Trying to get away from him so she could calm down, she stormed into the storage room that the twins normally had locked, and stood in the middle of the room, not touching anything because they had been all instructed no to touch anything that wasn't out front. Ron, however, had followed her in and plucked an item off of the shelf.  
The twins, apparently, had an alarm system. The door slammed close, plunging them into darkness except for the light of their wands. At first, their was the shrill shriek of a siren to cover up their yelling, but now that it's all died down, they were quiet.  
And cold.

It had been three hours, with the temperature dropping steadily, and no one's come to save them. They both admitted defeat in their fighting a while ago, and they were huddled in the corner with her in Ron's lap and his coat around both of them (strictly for the purpose of preserving heat, of course). The wand light was casting an eerie glow around the room, and the shadows kept growing somehow. Finally, Ron broke the silence. "I'm sorry."   
"For what?"   
"For getting us locked in here." He took a deep breath, steeling his nerves, and then rushed on. "But I'm not sorry for asking about why you showed up early like you did. You were crying and you just like came up to my room and fell into my arms and sobbed and...."  
"What's your point Ron?" Her voice was a little rough, and she felt the tears starting up again. She's always so close to crying these days, with her nerves stretched thin and one piece of bad news after another.  
"My point is normally you tell me what's wrong. I'd be able to know which Slytherin to curse or what girl I don't like now or if there's some death eater I need to go find. Or to know if I need to start thinking of an apology." He put his arms around her, hugging her like he was afraid she'd run away, though she didn't know why, since they were locked in a room together.   
"You can't protect me every time get upset over something. You know that right?"  
"I want to."   
It was that stubborn tone that made her fess up. "I erased my parents memory. They don't remember anything about you, or Harry, or Voldemort, or anything like that. They don't know about Hogwarts or that I'm a witch. They don't even know they have a daughter." She let out a gasp, and buried her head in his shoulder. "They don't remember my birthdays, or the Christmas traditions, or family vacations. As of right now, they should be somewhere in Australia, exploring. It'd be hard for Dumbledore to track them down, let alone me, should I get out of this stupid war intact." She was crying, but there were only a few tears slipping from her eyes, like she couldn't believe what she was saying. "You can't protect me from this, can you, Ron?"  
And he couldn't. But he held her until she stopped crying, until the twins finally let them out. And later that night, when she snuck into his bedroom, he held her then, too.


End file.
